


these arms of mine

by gothyringwald



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Prom, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 10:44:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14259264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: It’s prom night at Hawkins High and all the seniors are there in their taffeta and tuxes. But, much to Steve's disappointment, Billy doesn’t show. Steve finds him, later, when most of their classmates have moved onto motels and after parties, drinking out by the quarry. When Steve realises Billy had wanted to come, but had spent the night alone, instead, Steve decides they can have their own prom.





	these arms of mine

**Author's Note:**

> So, I got this idea while listening to Fireworks by First Aid Kit (which also has a cool '80s prom themed video) because I thought it would be a nice song to slow dance to. I mostly listened to that and Otis Redding while I was writing this!
> 
> Shout out to [manskinpants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manskinpants) for listening to me whinge about this while I was writing. And also for helping me decide on a title. And just for being a great cheerleader in general <3

Tires crunch over gravel as Steve pulls up to the quarry. It's late, and a fat moon hangs high in the sky, its pale light glittering on the black water below. Billy is sitting on the hood of his Camaro, legs dangling. The end of his cigarette burns bright as he draws on it. He exhales a plume of smoke that dissolves into the dark sky, then brings a bottle to his mouth, throat bobbing as he takes a long pull.

'So this is where you've been?' Steve says, as he gets out of his car and approaches Billy, smiling. 

Billy doesn't turn to look at him, doesn't acknowledge him at all. Steve's smile falters. He had thought Billy would be happy to see him. He continues, a little less sure, 'Missed you at prom.'

'Yeah? Your date not entertaining enough?' 

The biting edge to Billy's voice unsettles Steve. 'Uh, I wouldn't know. He didn't show,' Steve says, trying to inject his voice with levity. He leans against the hood of the Camaro, his hip near Billy's knee. 

Billy turns a disbelieving look on him.

'I told you I was going stag...' Steve doesn't add 'because I couldn't go with you' but he'd told Billy that enough times. Or, at least, he'd thought he had.

'What about Kimberly?' Billy takes one last drag of his cigarette and flicks it away.

Steve frowns. 'I turned her down. You were there. Remember?'

'Thought you might have changed your mind.' Billy turns, looks out across the quarry. His shoulders are a hard, tense line. Steve reaches out and brushes the seam of Billy's denim jacket with his fingertips. Billy jerks away and Steve lets his hand fall. His stomach drops.

Steve fumbles on, 'What? No. Why...' He doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he hugs his arms around himself, shoves his hands under his armpits. 'Why would I?'

'No one thought it was strange King Steve didn't have a date?' Billy asks, ignoring Steve's question.

'Former King, remember,' Steve says and then he shrugs. 'And, no. Maybe. No one said anything. They probably still think I'm pining after Nancy. Probably think it's romantic. Or pathetic. Or both.'

'Are you?' 

'Pathetic?' Steve asks, brows raised.

Billy snorts. 'I already know you're pathetic.'

Steve laughs. This is familiar, the banter, the teasing. His stomach starts to unclench.

'I meant pining after Wheeler.'

The uncertainty in Billy's voice throws Steve, yet again. If it was just jealousy, Steve would get it. He remembers the odd satisfaction he'd felt when he'd realised Billy got just as jealous as Steve did when girls flirted with him, when they asked him to prom. That maybe he had to fight the urge to say something stupid like, 'Back off, he's spoken for!' or swallow down that cold-hot spiky feeling, too. So, jealousy he would get. But the naked _uncertainty_ , the thought that Billy may not have known Steve only wants to be with him, makes Steve feel queasy. 

'Not even a little,' Steve says, forcefully. He leans in and, though his words sound like a joke, he's completely serious when he says, 'I pine only for you, these days.'

Billy's lips quirk. He takes another swig of whatever is in the bottle. Steve grabs for it and Billy passes it over. 'That what you were doing at prom? Pining for me in your fancy tux?' he asks, gaze sliding down Steve's frame—brow raising at the hot pink cummerbund—as Steve chugs the cheap whisky, with a grimace.

Steve wipes over his mouth and hands the bottle back. 'Yep,' he says, letting the 'p' pop. It's just a little too loud in the still night and he winces.

'You _are_ pathetic,' Billy says, but his voice is soft, now, cheeks dimpled with a small smile.

Steve toes at the dirt with his shiny Italian leather shoes. They'll probably scuff but he doesn't care. He sinks his hands into his pockets. 'That why you didn't show? Thought I'd be with Kimberly? Or wishing I was with Nancy?' 

Billy shrugs. 'Not exactly,' he says, takes another drink. He doesn't elaborate, but adds, 'Don't think my old man was keen on me going.' 

Steve knows that tightness in Billy's voice and realises Billy has been half turned from him the whole time he's been here. 'Let me see,' he says, reaching for Billy's chin, turning his face so the silver moonlight illuminates the nasty bruise on his cheekbone. Billy doesn't shirk Steve's touch, this time. Steve sucks in a breath.

'Nearly came along. Thought it might be fun to shock everyone, turning up like this.' Billy takes one last drink, then throws the bottle. It sails through the air and lands somewhere out in the dark.

Steve ducks his head and catches Billy's eye. 'Why didn't you?'

'Didn't want to ruin your night,' Billy says, voice flat, as he slides off the car. He's turned from Steve, again. Something squeezes tight in Steve's chest.

'Did you want to come?'

Billy bites his nails and says, tone too light to be anything but forced, 'Nope.' His eyes glint in the moonlight.

Steve sighs. While he'd been sulking in his stupid tux, drinking spiked punch and dancing half-heartedly, Billy had been out here alone. Drinking awful whisky. Nursing his bruise. Thinking he'd ruin Steve's night, not even realising how much Steve misses Billy whenever he's not around.

Steve takes Billy's face in his hands. Runs a thumb so so gently over the red mark that will darken to purple soon enough. Billy lets him. It's still heady, that Billy will let Steve do this. Be close to him. Be gentle with him. That he opens up to Steve, in his own way. Needs Steve as much as Steve needs Billy. He bumps their noses together and says, 'Well, we can have our own prom.'

'What?'

Steve leans into the Camaro, turns the ignition to accessories, and fiddles with the radio until he finds a nice song. He flips on the headlights for good measure.

'You're going to flatten the battery,' Billy says. 

Steve ignores him. 'Dance with me,' he says when he's straightened up, holding a hand out to Billy.

Billy stares at it dumbly, repeats his incredulous, 'What?'

'C'mon,' Steve says, beckoning with his hand. 

Billy steps closer, scowling, arms crossed. 'I don't dance.'

'Just once. It's only us out here.' Steve fixes his mouth into a pout and adds, 'It’s my prom night after all. I wanna dance with the one I...' he trails off awkwardly, face burning. He clears his throat. 'With my, uh, boyfriend.'

Billy smiles, all fond, when Steve says 'boyfriend', his earlier uncertainty seemingly forgotten. 'Yeah, OK,' Billy says and slips his hand into Steve's. 'But the oldies station, Harrington. Really?'

'Shut up,' Steve says as he pulls Billy close. 'It's a pretty song.'

Billy hums, non-committal, and slides his hand up Steve's arm to rest on his shoulder. Steve sighs. It feels good to hold Billy, to have him warm and solid against him. The song changes over, something bluesier, now. A soulful voice croons words that echo Steve's own feelings.

Billy tenses in Steve's arms. 'My mom used to sing this. It was one of her favourite songs,' he says, in that careful voice he always uses when he talks about his mom.

'Yeah?' Steve brushes his nose over Billy's cheek, along his jaw. Billy smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne. 'It's a good song.'

Billy sighs. His voice is thick when he says, 'It is.'

Steve squeezes Billy's waist, reassuringly, and turns them in a small circle. He doesn't offer to change the song. Steve knows Billy would turn it off himself if he didn't want to listen to it.

'Hey,' Billy says, after a few moments, pulling back so he can look at Steve. His eyes narrow. 'How come you're leading?'

'Because you're shorter,' Steve says. 'And I'm a better dancer.'

Billy snorts at that but just rests his chin on Steve's shoulder. 'Whatever you say, Astaire,' he says and holds Steve tighter.

Something flutters in Steve's chest. They've never danced together before. It feels so intimate, Steve thinks, stomach swooping. They've had sex—many, many times—but slow dancing under the moon, with the sultry song crackling from the radio, on prom night of all nights, just seems more intimate, somehow. Feels like some kind of promise. Steve rolls his eyes at himself. It's probably just the punch and the whisky and the twist in his gut when he remembers Billy saying 'I didn't want to ruin your night' and how Steve had nearly said he loves Billy. That's all it is.

'You know, you're kind of a cheap date, Harrington,' Billy says, breaking through Steve's thoughts. 'Didn't even get me a corsage.' He shakes his head in mock sadness, _tsking_ at Steve.

Steve doesn't miss a beat when he replies, 'Didn't know what you were wearing. It might have clashed.'

Billy laughs, then, and says, 'You're a dork.' 

'Takes one to know one,' Steve quips and then kisses Billy, firmly, before he can come back with another smartass remark. His lips are sticky with whisky. He tastes good.

They sway in time to the music, Steve's arm tight around Billy's waist, Billy's hand sunk into his hair as they turn in a slow circle. He's humming, softly, and Steve doesn't think Billy even knows he's doing it. It makes something warm spread through Steve that has nothing to do with his stifling tux.

The warmth simmers, taking on a different colour, when Billy presses his hips against Steve's. Insistent, with purpose. Steve swallows, hand drifting to the small of Billy's back. Pressing Billy to him. 

'You know I only want you, right?' Steve says, voice low. 'That I'm yours.'

Billy nods, as though he hadn't just been thinking Steve would rather be with someone else.

'And you're mine.'

'Yeah,' Billy says, 'yeah, I am,' and then he kisses Steve.

He twists his hand in Steve's hair, angles his head so he can deepen the kiss. Steve pulls back, though, smiling as Billy chases the kiss. Steve licks at Billy's lips once, twice, teasing him before Billy gets frustrated and just pulls Steve back to him. Opens his mouth against Steve's. Steve sighs, happily, as Billy's tongue curls possessively against his own.

He slots a leg between Billy's and turns them, so he can push Billy up against the side of the Camaro. Warmth blooms into searing heat, prickling up and down his spine, when Billy fits his hands over the swell of Steve's ass, pulling Steve flush against him. Steve braces his hands on the car, by Billy's shoulders.

'This is better than dancing,' Billy says when Steve trails kisses down his neck. 

'Mmm.' Steve drags his teeth over Billy's pulse, moves up so he can whisper in his ear, 'You know what's another time honoured prom night tradition?'

'What?' Billy says, breathless, voice rough.

'Getting laid,' Steve says, through a grin.

'Sounds like my kind of tradition.' Billy licks his lips. 'Your car or mine?'

'I was thinking my bed.' Steve presses his thigh more firmly against Billy, can feel how hard he is already. Billy's breath hitches, and he tightens his grip in Steve's hair. Steve moans.

Billy shifts his hips. His cheeks are flushed. 'What about your parents?'

Steve hesitates, then says, 'They're away.' 

Billy frowns. His hands are on Steve's hips, now, rubbing slow, teasing circles. Hot even through the fabric of Steve's trousers. 'Thought your mom would want to see you off on prom night.'

Steve shrugs and bites his lip. 'At least they'll be at graduation, right?' 

Steve's stomach does something funny at the thought of graduation. He and Billy both have plans—Steve is going to work for his dad, Billy has a job lined up at a mechanic's—but they don't have plans _together_. Steve still isn't sure if Billy even wants to make plans with him. He'll have to ask Billy about it, soon. But not tonight. He just wants to take Billy home, make love, spend the night together. Wake up with him, if he's lucky.

Billy is looking at him in that way he does when Steve tries to pretend his parents' indifference doesn’t bother him. Steve doesn’t like it. So he kisses Billy again. It's always easy to distract Billy like this. Steve cups Billy's jaw, runs his fingers gently along the shell of his ears. Billy shivers.

They make out against the car through several songs, heat sinking low in Steve's gut as Billy's hips roll up against his. He's not sure they'll make it back to his place at this rate. It's the thought that he doesn't want to fuck against the car or in his backseat that makes him pull away and say, chest heaving, 'Come home with me?' 

'Yeah, OK,' Billy says, but neither of them move. Instead, Billy fists his hands in Steve's lapels and crushes their mouths together, again. 

When they finally part, Billy is fixing the boutonniere that was in Steve's buttonhole into the pocket of his denim jacket. 'See? Doesn't clash,' he says with a wink.

Steve shakes his head, smiling, and steps back so Billy can get in the car. He rolls down the window, looking up at Steve from beneath long lashes, eyes dark with lust, lips red and kiss-swollen. Steve's heart thuds hard and he makes a promise to himself then and there that he’s going to show Billy just how much he means to him when they get home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :) Come find me on tumblr [@gothyringwald](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/) if you like. My asks & IMs are always open. If you're into reblogging, you can [reblog a little promo for this fic here](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/172740376670/its-prom-night-at-hawkins-high-and-all-the).
> 
> Title from the Otis Redding song of the same name because I love Otis. It's also the song Billy and Steve dance to. (Originally they were going to dance to Come to Me, also by Otis Redding, but These Arms of Mine was a better title ;D Maybe that's the next song that comes on, though. Maybe it's just an Otis Redding station. Haha).
> 
> Writing has been super hard, lately, so I'm really pleased with myself for getting this finished! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Well, as much as I enjoyed finishing it, at least. Ha.


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